


The Rogue in Purple: Hot Cockles at Twelfth Night

by JoAsakura



Series: The Rogue In Purple [3]
Category: Saints Row
Genre: Alternate Universe - Historical, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-01
Updated: 2015-01-01
Packaged: 2018-03-04 19:16:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 876
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3084755
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JoAsakura/pseuds/JoAsakura
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Another stupid side story for the Rogue In Purple.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Rogue in Purple: Hot Cockles at Twelfth Night

_As at Hot Cockles, Once I laid me down_  
And felt the weighty hand of many a clown  
Angel gave a gentle tap, and I  
quick rose and read soft mischief in his eye 

~~

It had been a merry season in Steeleport, very different than the one that had preceded it.

In the city manor they'd made their own, the Saints had hung boughs of evergreen and rosemary, and streamers in purple and gold shimmered in the candlelight. Since Saint Nicholas' Day, the halls had been filled with guests from Stilwater and beyond bringing laughter and games.

The tables groaned with fruitcakes and mince pies, white soups and plum puddings and Pierce had found the bean in the Twelfth Night Cake and had, as a result, become their insufferable Boss for the evening.

Adam wrung out the fine muslin of his shirt, black-violet hair sluicing water down his shoulders as he displayed a prize apple in his teeth, while Angel produced a bullet from the pudding, flour still dusting his nose as the others laughed.

There would need to be time before the clock struck midnight, to take down the greens and burn them in the lot behind their home, but for now, their temporary boss declared a new game played. "I would think I'd test our dear Boss's wits with a little game of Hot Cockles, what'd'ya think, Saints?"

"I think you're all sadly mistaken if you think you can fool me." Adam tossed his apple to one of Lady Kensington's urchins as he sketched a bow. But if you wish to make the attempt, have at it, mates."

Sister Shaundi tied a blindfold over his eyes and then laughed. "I think, Boss, you should lay your head down in Lady Kensington's lap for this affair."

"That is scandalous!" The Lady huffed, tugging down her cap before plopping down in the nearest chair. "Of course."

"I believe in some circles this makes us engaged, milady." Adam joked as he knelt down to rest his head on her knee. "Also, your beading is going to leave a mark in my cheek." 

"Believe me, I would rather be engaged to Mister Kirrlov, if he ever stops trying to outdrink your boxer at the punchbowl." Kensington laughed, prodding him in the head. "And you're the one soaking my dress, like some drowned crow."

The first strike hit his back, as dainty as a lady such as Viola might make and Adam snorted. "Pierce, I always said you fought like a child out of the nursery and this only goes to prove it."

"Hells bells, how do you do that?" Pierce gave him a little kick in the ankle.

The next, a meaty slap and Adam laughed. "Sister Shaundi, your rings give you away. But well struck!" 

"I will never apologise for my love of jewelry." Sister Shaundi sniffed, laughing as Pierce offered her a cup of punch. 

The next strike, however, was a single finger run across his palm and a shiver ran through Adam's body as he suddenly got up, cheeks flushed under the tousled strands of his dark hair. The boxer folded his arms, a smug look on his bluntly handsome face. "It looks as if I've lost this game then." Adam said, swallowing dryly. "I could use another drink."

While the others took up the game again, Angel led Adam away. "I'm sorry to have made you jump like that." He said in a tone that implied the opposite. When Adam chuckled softly, the boxer pushed him against a wall, beneath a bough of mistletoe nestled amongst the other greens. "You look positively indecent in those wet clothes, you know."

Adam ran his cheek along Angel's jaw while the others cheered at some win of a game in the rooms beyond. "You tell me I look indecent when i'm fully dressed and dry, you know." He purred, Angel's hands sliding down his waist to rest at his hips. 

"You do. You really are a right devil." Angel nosed through his hair. "But I would that you were my devil alone."

Adam kissed him, lips soft against Angel's cheek. "You know that I am, mister de la Muerte." He squirmed a moment, reaching into his shirt. "I've got a bit of a token for you, love."

"I don't..." Angel started, pausing as Adam fidgeted the chain off his own neck to present it to his lover. A small locket of rosy gold, a ring of fine little purple garnets about the rim. At first glance, it looked like it had an amethyst in the centre. But, a smile curled Angel's lips as he examined it. A delicate weave of shimmering purple-black beneath a faceted crystal cap. On the reverse, the fleur they all wore on their persons. "..Adam?"

"A small thing." Adam fastened the chain about Angel's neck and then ducked his head. "I love you, Angel for all that means from a devil like me."

"It means everything." Angel murmured against Adam's collarbone as he slid his hands under his shirt. "And it would mean everything if you agreed to finally marry me, my little devil?"

There was another cheer from the ballroom and whatever Adam said, softly, in response, Angel may have cheered too.


End file.
